


No Place Like Home

by RubyD



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyD/pseuds/RubyD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba escapes from Trip and Virus, only to find that the Midorijima he returns to is not at all the one he left. (Post-anime OVA.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return

Aoba had dreamed of Tae, of Midorijima at it's most nostalgic and happily mundane. Old and new friends talked over a table and the smell of donuts lingered as he woke. He missed that old life so much it filled his soul with a weariness that felt like homesickness and grief and regret rolled into a single, aching entity. 

Eyes fluttered open and took in the familiar black canopy above the bed before sliding close again. For a moment, he had hoped he would see something different. 

He dozed on between dreaming and wakefulness. He preferred to sleep if he could get it when his captors were satisfied with what they had done to him, the only escape he was allowed. Even then the respite was brief and empty and what relief he found in dreams of home bled away into bitter awareness in the morning. He was never going home. This was his life now. 

A part of him still didn't want to accept it. 

_It's not too late_ , a small, quiet memory of a voice whispered in his head. 

Aoba was silent, feeling only a dull throb at his temples. It was weak. They were both so weak. 

Then he thought back in answer, _Is it?_

It had been a long time since he acknowledged _him_ , this once-angry and ferocious voice that shot pain through everything. It used to be that he thought listening to it would lead to ruin and the loss of himself, and the last time they had spoke Aoba had rejected him so completely he thought he'd never return. Now, the other was a welcomed interruption between the endless cycle of black and white, Trip and Virus. This time there was little left of himself to lose.

On the bed, Virus shifted and a finger brushed aside Aoba's bangs as he lay there, as if sensing his thoughts. He had long lost the reflex to flinch away, mind going blank as he prepared himself to be stirred awake and used. A thumb smeared away a tear Aoba didn't know he shed, leaving a cool trail over his cheek as it ghosted into the air. He kept still, his breaths even and slow. 

Apparently content, Virus let go of a small sigh and his weight left the bed. The sounds of his footsteps travelled to the bathroom for a shower and the door opened and closed with a sharp click. Aoba waited a few more moments before sighing, too. 

_It's not too late,_ that voice whispered again, insistent. 

He could feel something clawing up from the pit of his empty stomach, a feeble hope feeding into his veins. Aoba struggled not to let it grow too strong. From experience, hopes were easily cut away and drowned. 

He still feared losing the small part of himself that was left and clung to it fiercely, but it was either this or lose it to Trip and Virus. It wasn't even a question - it was inevitable, and it would be soon. The would break him down into nothing and rebuild him the way they wanted, and teach him to want it too. Between two different methods of destruction the question was which did he prefer? What did he want?

_I want to go home._

It was the truest thing he ever wanted.

 _Switch with me,_ said the other voice. Louder. Desperate. Weary the same way he was. _Let me out!_

The thought of letting someone else deal with reality was more than tempting. But it wasn't really someone else, was it? After months and months with Trip and Virus he had learned more about what he was like as a teenager and scrambled memories pieced themselves into a jumbled picture of when life was the thrill of Rhyme. This voice, this other side, had been a part of it. 

He was trapped, too, Aoba suddenly realized with an awful jolt. Through medicine and through force of will, he had kept him back. 

There were times where he had helped, too, leading him to _destroy_. Like that time he used Scrap on Koujaku. On Noiz. Mink, too. Clear… well, Clear hadn't needed Scrap.

Those guys… what were they doing now?

Virus left the bathroom and the warm, humid air from his shower billowed gently into the room. There was a knock at the door - Trip was here. There was only one reason why Trip would want to visit Virus's room.

A shudder danced through him. Somewhere in the bedroom, Hersha hissed. The door opened. 

"Good morning," Virus said mildly to Trip. "You're here early."

"I missed him," he replied. Aoba could imagine the annoyed expression on Virus's face, the one that held little heat and even less concern. Trip would smile expectantly, already knowing how this would go. The two of them were like carefully constructed dolls only making a play at being human. 

The bed dipped twice, once on either side. His eyes were still shut, but screwed tight and he knew they knew he was awake. 

"Aoba-san."

"Aoba." The beats of his name were stretched to a playful, childish singsong. 

No no no.

 _What will you do?_ Aoba finally asked. Fear lit up his heart and he clung to the only hand that was offered. 

_Let me show you._

His head throbbed. And that was the last thing he remembered before the world slipped away.

\---

Rain was the next thing he was aware of as he "woke".

His head snapped up under the lukewarm scatter of droplets. The air was heavy, thick with humidity threatening to break into an even heavier storm. It was a summer rain. It came from the patch of sky he could see above him, just a narrow dark grey strip at top of an alleyway crowded with rusting pipes and dark awnings. It was beautiful. 

He scrambled up onto sneakered but pained feet. And apparently he hadn't been there for long, since his hair was only a little damp. Aoba didn't know how long he was out, but his legs felt like they hadn't stopped moving for days. It was hard to tell since his legs were so thin and no longer used to walking that he may have only travelled an hour. He found himself fully clothed in loose pants and a dull blue, hooded sweater, with nothing in his pockets save for lint. Having clothes felt oddly alien to him. It didn't look like any of Trip's or Virus's things. Where was it from? 

But what was more startling was the familiar spray of paint on the wall next to him. The red had faded and the the black was scratched and more the grey of the clouds, but he would know it anywhere.

This was Benishigure's symbol. 

He was in Midorijima.


	2. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were places he needed to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote half of this groggy on cough syrup forgive

It was the East district. He knew this area as well as anyone did the town they grew up in, could picture where each stretch of road and turn of an alley led, and what places were populated by various local Rib teams that he should avoid. Here, though, it was empty. Wiping a hand across the Benishigure tag, he allowed himself the thrill of being in this place, outside, and alone. 

It was hard to believe. If this was a dream, it was too real. Aoba closed his eyes and took a deep breath - but he couldn't relax yet. There were places he needed to go. 

Drawing up his hood, he walked out into the street.

The road stretched out in front of him, lined with buildings and shops he knew, their lights spilling gently over the street as the sky darkened with a dizzle. Without a Coil, he didn't know what time it was. Cars and people passed him by, having no reason to look at this stranger, though if they did they might notice he was a bit too thin, eyes carved from pain and a bit too haunted with things no one should know. 

Aoba tried to see if there was anyone he could recognize on the street - even a member from from Bug Bomb would have been a welcomed sight. But the faces he passed were all strangers. The further he walked, however, the more he noticed something strange. 

Everyone was smiling. They all looked forward, their eyes focused on their destination ahead, and their lips quirked into a slight smile as if remembering something pleasant. The man in a suit, that woman opening up an umbrella, that old woman at the shop window… their faces were the same. Aoba felt something grow cold and strangled inside of him. 

Aoba worked up the fortitude to speak up to the woman with the umbrella, a pale yellow canopy with orange spots, as she passed. She looked like she was heading in for the day. 

"Ah… excuse me?" he said, awkward. The woman stopped and turned unblinking eyes to him. "But can you tell me what time it is?"

"It's almost eight," she answered, that slight smile pressing on. 

"In the evening?"

"Of course." She tilted her head. "Is something wrong?" 

"No. Yes? I… I have another question." He wasn't sure if he should ask it. "What can you tell me about Toue?" 

"Toue?" A puzzled tone. 

Before she could continue, the sound of a dozen Coils went off at the same time. The musical rings were all different and clashed quietly with one another as everyone up and down the street stopped where they were to check their Coil.

Aoba stepped away from the woman, heart jumping with alarm. 

She didn't notice. A window popped up from her Coil - a delicate watch design - and a little news jingle started. All along the road, people murmured.

"An announcement?"

"I hope we see--"

"I wonder…" 

They fell silent when Toue's image appeared. Staring proudly, even victoriously, out into the viewers, he began to speak. 

Horrified, Aoba listened to Toue greet everyone and give a small, short speech about how Midorijima was doing, how peaceful and happy everyone was, and how he hoped to spread that same happiness to the rest of the world. That was the next great step for humanity. The screen flickered and Aoba blinked at the sudden splash of static - and then it ended. It wasn't a long message at all, but it had left him cold and shaken. An ache pulsed behind his eyes, then settled.

Toue had succeeded.

This was all wrong.

Aoba ran blindly and he ran as fast as he could even though that wasn't very fast at all. His body carried itself with adrenaline and anger, and he forced each step to rise and land and take him forward again and again until he came to his first stop: Heibon. 

The junk shop was closed and locked tight. Hope crumbled as he peered in through the window - it was bordering on empty, the shelves and stock no longer filled except with packing boxes. But that, at least, meant something. What happened to Haga...? 

Aoba pulled himself away from the store.

His next stop was no different. Delivery Works was closed, with no hint of where Yoshie and Clara could have gone. Aoba continued on, his run having slowed significantly into a staggering walk. Sneakers were a loud, wet beat against the sidewalk as he headed to the place he had only seen in dreams for the past seven months. 

The house loomed in his sight, windows dark. He noted every detail of the place as he stepped closer, comparing it to his memory, and finding it mostly unchanged. The exception was the plants outside had grown wildly and then withered in his absence, leaving thin corpses creeping along the outer wall before sputtering out of life.

Aoba walked straight to the front door, not caring who might be watching him or the place. He tugged at the door, tentative... Unlocked. Tae would've verbally turned his ear over it. 

_Granny_ , he thought, chest squeezing painfully. 

The dread that chased him all the way across the district finally caught up as he threw the door open. Silence met him with the still, stale air of an abandoned place. Of course no one would be home. Nobody had been there for a long time. 

He discovered the lights didn't work, but wandering the house in the dark was an easy task. He didn't need to see to know where everything was. The fridge had gone undisturbed for so long that most of the contents had shot past "disgusting" and into "fossilized" territory. Thankfully water still came from the faucets and he took a long, filling drink. 

Each footstep was too loud and alone. Going upstairs, the dying light of the day gave enough for him to know that all the rooms he checked in were empty. 

Aoba let himself wonder how he could have gotten away from Virus and Trip if Scrap didn't work on them before. He was half afraid they had purposely let him go for some mysterious but likely awful reason. Had it been this? To see how everything had changed? If they thought it would be the worst thing to realize, they would be right. 

Reaching the door to his room, he had the sudden terrifying thought that they were waiting just on the other side. His breath caught and he stood there for several long minutes, waiting out the panic and for his heart to find its rhythm again. When it did, because it was either do that or explode, he slid his door open. 

Still no one. 

He was both relieved and disappointed. 

"Tadaima," he whispered. _I'm home._

The room was the same as he left it, a moment in time preserved in the world as in his memories. Stripping gingerly out of his wet clothing, Aoba rummaged through his closet for something of his own. He put a new shirt and pants on with a sad twinge - they draped over him, too large. It'll have to do though. 

With almost childish abandon, he dropped down onto the bed. _His_ bed. Small and low and perfectly suited for him. The blankets still smelled the same, though maybe more clearly for having been separated from them for so long. A wave of sadness filled Aoba and he rolled over to his side and he hugged himself. Shutting his eyes tight, he forced himself to keep it together, wanting to pretend for at least one night that he was home and that everything would be okay. That maybe in the morning everything would be the way it was, and the world would be right again. He clung to that hope as exhaustion dragged him into sleep.


	3. Partial Recall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter.

Sleep, it seems, had been a long time coming. Aoba went uninterrupted through the evening and the rest of the night, still and silent as his body recovered until he finally dreamed. It was more a memory, just one he couldn't call up during the day. 

He threw himself from Trip's and Virus's wanting hands and pitched forward across the oil-black sheets of the canopied bed. They both made a surprised noise but it was more curious than anything, probably amused. He made many attempts to escape before, with no success. Once they allowed Aoba to make it to the front door before stopping him. He was a wreck for days, and they made sure of it. 

Palms slapped against the cold, checkered floor as he tumbled from the bed, knees and feet and limbs following as he scrambled away from the men. 

"Welter," Trip called.

The lion-AllMate's hulking figure padded in from the hallway and made a blockade of fur and teeth the door. Welter grumbled in warning. Hersha slithered out from under the bed to circle him from behind.

"Aoba-san, you haven't done this in a while," Virus noted, at once both chiding and lit with a kind of approval. 

"Where are you trying to go?" asked Trip. They remained on the bed, waiting to see how this played out. It was just entertainment to them, Aoba knew. 

He didn't answer, instead backing up against the wall so the two AllMates were in his sight. He breathed hard, anxious and afraid. There was only one plan and he needed it to work. 

"Welter, Hersha," Aoba said, his strong and penetrating voice capturing their attention. His eyes were bright gold. The AllMates went still. " _Stop them._ "

 

And when he woke from the memory it was mid-word, his voice catching and turning it into an incomplete croak. 

Eyes opened and focused on the ceiling. Was that how he escaped? Scrap… so it worked on AllMates, too. If he had known that earlier, could he have escaped before? How could he have known? Why didn't he keep trying? He lay there in agony and self-recrimination, and wondered what had happened after that... 

Shifting in the bed, he turned and froze - because there was _someone else_ in the room. 

It was a shadowed figure, his outline visible against the daylight peeking in from partly-opened curtains. Tufts of hair framed his head and Aoba was reminded of Virus, short locks wet and fallen in the morning. When he stepped closer and it was very obvious he was neither part of a dream or hallucination, Aoba threw himself back against his headboard in a panic and screamed.

The man jumped at that, and it was a youthful sort of movement. He gave startled sound, his hands out, and a ringing, worried voice followed.

"Aoba-san!"

Aoba gasped. It was a voice he wasn't sure he'd ever hear again. "...Clear?!"


	4. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't watched the DMMd anime for a while, so if I got some details wrong I'll fix them. The next chapter will be slow going because I'll be busyyyyy, so sorry. :c  
> Also, I hope no one minds art.

Clear stood in front of the doors to the veranda and fresher air from outside wafted into the room - he had entered through them instead of using the front door like a normal person.

But he wasn't a "normal person". The last time Aoba saw him, Clear lay broken in Glitter with his face still and peaceful as if he were sleeping, his flaking bio-skin covered with bandages like they were covering simple wounds. The wrappings were gone now and his skin was somehow pieced together for the most part. He still wore the same bright scarf and ill-fitting clothes too, the rips and tears having been repaired with thread and needle. 

"Aoba-san, it's you! You're back!" Clear cried, excited. _Ecstatic._

"Clear," he repeated, winded from shock and staring at him in disbelief. "You...you're okay?"

"Me?"

"Even your…" It was then Aoba noticed his skin looked off where there had been damage - it was discolored like a scar or a birthmark, as if patched up from another source. It wasn't the cleanest job either, and thin hairline cracks could be seen all along the edges. The robot self-consciously touched the right side of his face. 

"Yes! Ah, Noiz-san did what he could…" Clear knelt at the side of the bed. His eyes were large as he looked him over. "But where have you been? We looked everywhere for you, but you were gone! Everyone's so worried…!" 

"I-" He choked, voice thick and body still wound up from the rude awakening. 

"Aoba-san?" 

"I was kidnapped," he whispered, his heart pounding hard. They looked for him. Everyone had been worried. Did that also mean the others were safe? He wanted to ask about Noiz and them but couldn't get the words out. There was too much he wanted to ask all at once. Instead, his mind spiralled back to where he had been. 

"Kidnapped… How awful." His tone was serious, a veil of anger behind it. "Was it Toue?"

"Morphine," Aoba said. He didn't want to say their names. Clear wouldn't know them anyway. 

"The team?"

"The leaders." He wanted to talk about something else.

"Aoba-san? ...Are you all right?" 

"...No." His breath left him in a rush of shame as he admitted it. He had been gripping the sheets hard and now stared not at Clear, but through him. Aoba knew he was about to break, but desperately tried to hold himself in one piece anyway. He talked without knowing what he would say before he said it. "They kept me. They… they wouldn't let me go. They _hurt_ me, I couldn't do anything, I'm - " He shook his head, the words tumbling out faster. "Then I got back and everything's changed. Toue's taken over, hasn't he? I was alone and I couldn't find anyone, I didn't know what to do, I came home and…!" 

His head ached and swam, vision clouding up. A gloved hand wrapped around Aoba's shaking grip. 

"I'm here." His voice was gentle. "You won't be alone anymore." 

"Clear…"

"And it's not just me, either. A lot of things have happened and I'll explain it all later." He squeezed his hand. "But… when you were gone I thought I heard you, Aoba-san, from far away. Noiz-san was still trying to fix me so he and Mink-san weren't sure if I really did." Aoba listened, going still. Clear continued, "I was more sure, though, but you were further than I could get to… And then I didn't hear anything again for a long time. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you - I really am. But I'm happy you're finally here."

It was heartfelt and filled with nothing but care. It was shockingly good to hear after his months-long ordeal. 

Everything Aoba been holding on to since yesterday came out in a ruin of tears and uncontrollable gasps. Clear leaned in and wrapped his arms around him and Aoba leaned back, his desire for the first real comfort he'd had in forever overriding the disgust he felt at himself. He had almost given up. 

The relief at being with someone he could trust was overwhelming. He cried until he was dehydrated again, face a new mess each time he wiped tears and snot away. Clear just held him and murmured his name softly to let him know he was there. Things were still wrong and the Old Residential District was nothing like it should be, but at that moment he could believe the worst was over. Now, Aoba could rely on someone else. 

"I won't let anyone else hurt you." 

When his tears were finally spent and chest hurt and hitched occasionally of its own accord, they carefully uncurled from each other and Aoba went to clean himself up in the bathroom. Being alone in a bathroom again was a novelty. The cool water on his face and down his throat was nice - it was near afternoon by then, and the heat was starting to bear down on the house. 

His reflection looked horrible. He shut his eyes and took a deep, steady breath. 

The day was only starting. 

When Aoba returned to his room, he found Clear talking to someone on his Coil. It was a different Coil from before, a white strap with a gold face next to the original, broken one on his wrist. Aoba remembered finding it after the battle against the Alphas and taking it back to Glitter with him, putting it into Clear's coat pocket. It had been cracked and damaged, but not abandoned. 

"--Yes! We'll see you soon." The call disconnected. 

"Who was that?"

"That's Noiz-san." Clear faced Aoba. "Aoba-san, we have to leave - the police are coming." 

"Why are they coming here?" He was worried they were looking for _him_. He imagined the Yakuza and local law enforcement had many ties. 

"Someone probably saw me come in. Um, I'm considered a terrorist?" he said with a sheepish expression. Clear turned his back to Aoba and knelt. "I'll carry you! It'll be faster." 

"I can still run," he protested, though his legs honestly did not feel up to the task. 

He answered with a bright, "It's fine!" 

"It's fine, he says…" But after pulling on shoes and grabbing the spare jacket off of the hanger, Aoba reluctantly climbed onto Clear's back. It wasn't a moment too soon as a loud crash came from downstairs as the front door was kicked in. 

Outside, Akushima's voice blasted in through his megaphone. 

"AAAHHH? IT'S THIS PLACE AGAIN! ALL TERRORISTS INSIDE COME OUT!" he demanded. 

"Uwah~ Akushima-san is here!" Clear called out as he opened the veranda door wide, stepping out into the light with Aoba secured on his back. 

"IT'S YOU! AND THAT BRAT, TOO! YOU'RE UNDER ARREEEEST!!"

"Nice to see you too," Aoba muttered, worried, but this was all honestly getting a little nostalgic. Some things didn't change. He was glad he didn't run into him yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, Akushima-san, but we can't talk today!" 

"DON'T THINK I'M GOING EASY ON YOU EVEN IF YOU COME DOWN WILLINGLY!" 

"Eh?! Then I guess we won't!" 

Aoba ducked his head behind Clear. "What are you doing?! Shouldn't we be running?" he asked. 

"Just hang on tight," he replied. 

Police could be heard storming the stairs up to the room. Strong arms locked them together as Clear stepped onto the railing surrounding the veranda and with a burst of adrenaline Aoba realized what he was going to do.

"Oi, wait, Clear - !" 

Clear _jumped_. 

They soared. 

With one leap, Clear had left the house, the police, and the ground far behind them. Aoba cried out in fright as his stomach pitched with the change in gravity, feeling them reach the apex of the jump before careening towards the rooftops below. He hugged Clear's neck so hard he was afraid he would strangle him. 

Clear landed heavily on the roof and Aoba caught the glimpse of the grey, flat surface still spotted with puddles from last night's storm before they were back in the air in another jump. In a few more bounds across the district, their shadow rushing past unsuspecting citizens, Aoba realized they weren't abruptly going to die. 

"Cleeeeeeeeaaarrrrr…!" It was a shout that ended with a laugh. He looked around in awe as the city swept past them, going from the blue and white of the sky to the earthy colors of the buildings and back again, repeating as they travelled. This was insane and exhilarating - it wasn't flying, but it was close enough.


	5. Indigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [BrushDog](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BrushDog) for beta-reading!

Even though he was strapped to Clear's back and half-clinging for his life, it was a rush to be up in the air where they hung, floating, for seconds before gravity caught on and they plummeted back down to another jump. It was freeing in a way being free should feel. Here, as the wind blew through hair and clothes, it was clear as crystal - he had escaped. It felt real.

Then a little while later it became dizzying.

"Are we there yet…?" He groaned feebly into Clear's left ear before tucking his face against his neck. This was too much motion.

"We'll be there soon," Clear promised as he paused at the landing of a fire escape. It was several more jumps before they thankfully dropped to the ground between the shade of two buildings. He kept close to the wall as he hurried through the quiet alleyway, turning into back streets and avoiding the local daytime foot traffic.

"Is this the South district?" Aoba caught glimpses of theaters and shops, and smelled restaurants nearby. Nausea faded.

"It is!" Clear confirmed. 

A block or so later, they came to a lonely side-entrance to a building. The door was painted a bright purple with small lights around the frame.

"It's not really discrete..." Aoba said. Still being carried, he tried to figure out from memory if he knew this place.

"It'll be safe here."

Inside, the walls were a clean white with purple painted flowers and a thin dark carpet covered the floor. When they exited the corridor, they arrived to an empty lobby of a hotel.

The hotel sign, _Indigo Inn_ , was lit in a gaudy, bright fluorescent. There was no one at the front desk... but everything had been set up so any new arrivals could pick their rooms without needing to talk to someone - there was a screen that conveniently showed the rooms available, and a machine that traded keycards for credits. Clear waved his Coil at it and punched in a code to get one.

"This one is for you, Aoba-san." He offered the keycard to him.

Aoba' expression was flat. He recognized what this was.

"Clear… isn't this a love hotel?"

"It used to be a normal hotel! But it was remodeled," Clear helpfully provided. The tone became apologetic at Aoba's look. "So… yes. This is where we have to stay right now. Noiz-san said it's easier to hide here because no one would ask questions."

"I guess so…" True, love hotels were meant to be very private. "It wouldn't be my first idea for a hideout. Isn't it crazy expensive, too? Can't the Coil be tracked?"

"Ah, Noiz-san took care of it. And this Coil isn't really mine."

"Oh," Aoba replied. He could believe Noiz would 'take care' of things using his skills. He sighed. "Hey, let me walk."

Clear set him down when they got into the elevator next to the lobby and pressed the button for the top, fifth floor. Unsteady on his legs and suddenly feeling the weight of all the running he did the day before, Aoba nearly tripped out of the elevator when the doors opened. Clear caught him, looping a hand under his shoulder.

"Aoba-san!"

"Sorry..." he said as he found his footing again. Everything ached. "...I guess I'm still tired. I ran a lot."

"I can still carry you." He made a move to pick him up again.

"I'll walk," Aoba said, suddenly sharp. Clear stopped. "No... I mean… it's fine. We're almost there anyway, right?"

"Yes. If you're sure…"

The building wasn't a long one and the floor was just a stretch of black carpeting with four alternating doors on either side and a stairwell exit on the other side of the hall. Aoba wondered if there was anyone in the other rooms. At the second door, Clear swiped his own keycard and it unlocked with a polite beep.

The room was more like a small apartment. It was not one room but several, with a small but comfortable kitchen off to the side and a bedroom presumably in the back. Was this really a love hotel? Clear did say it used to be a regular one… The front door itself opened into a living room with an array of three black couches arranged into an incomplete square around a sturdy coffee table and a TV.

On one couch was Noiz, surrounded by dimly glowing windows that hovered in the air, video playing and text scrolling with information. No longer in his street clothes, the dark-green button-down he wore made him look older.

"Noiz-san, we're back!"

Before the words even left Clear's lips, Noiz's head had already jerked up at their arrival and screens quickly shut. Aoba found himself the subject of a very intense and searching stare coming to greet him. It was so piercing that Aoba felt a stricken sense of familiar shyness.

Noiz ignored Clear and stalked close. Self-consciously, Aoba crossed his arms. Even though he'd seen himself in the mirror, he wasn't as aware of how he must look to everyone until this moment, how weak he was and how abuse and neglect draped over him. _Don't look at me, don't -_

"Aoba," said Noiz. "Are you hurt?"

He said it in a way that it didn't actually sound like a question.

"I'm..." _fine_ , Aoba had the urge to lie before faltering. It wasn't some kind of hunger in Noiz's eyes, but a startling amount of worry. He wasn't sure why he was surprised - they hadn't seen each other since Glitter all those nights ago, after growing so close so quickly. He had gone with Mink to Oval Tower, leaving the rest behind so not to involve them any further before being spirited away, and then soon after the world turned upside-down.

He amended his original answer for something more honest, murmuring, "I've been a lot better."

Noiz mulled on that. "Where were you?"

"Morphine kidnapped me." Calling them by that name was easier to say. "They kept me somewhere. They wouldn't let me go, but I escaped."

He kept it short and vague. It was hard to believe everything that happened in the last day. Or had it been more than a day? Everything changed so fast it felt unreal.

Noiz's expression softened. One hand reached out, hesitating before cupping Aoba's face, fingertips pressing against his cheek as the warm and scarred palm met his jaw. It was no longer bandaged like Aoba remembered. Once, those fingers couldn't feel anything, but now they wanted to connect. This was probably good.

He didn't know what to do so he stood there and accepted the touch and thought about nothing. He didn't think about how Noiz's gaze unsettled him. He absolutely didn't think about how he accepted the last thousand touches. He was numb.

"We looked for you," Noiz finally said. The hand fell away.

He breathed. "Clear told me."

"There was no sign of you in Platinum Jail."

"I wasn't there." He looked down, long bangs falling over his face. "I don't know if Toue even knew where I was."

And then Aoba was exhausted all over again. The other two seemed to sense this and without a word ushered him into the living room to sit. He sunk himself into one of the corners where the couches met, hunching back with a sigh of relief. There was more he needed to ask, but the numbness crept through him now that there was a chance to relax. It would probably be safe to rest for a moment. He looked up and caught Noiz and Clear sharing a glance.

Clear suddenly clapped his hands together and headed over to the kitchen. "Aoba-san, Noiz-san! I'll make lunch, okay?"

*

Noiz watched with a tight sensation in his chest as Aoba settled into the couch and Clear tackled the kitchen. Aoba's time away had changed him into a gaunt ghost of his former self, whose eyes didn't quite meet Noiz's. He clenched a fist. While they were busy with Platinum Jail and Toue, he'd been hidden away. Trapped. How long had he been waiting for someone to come rescue him?

"How about omurice?" Clear's question to Aoba distracted Noiz from his thoughts. "When did you last eat?"

"That's fine," said Aoba. And then, after a pause, "I don't remember."

Hand going slack, Noiz made a noise of disapproval and moved into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and filled it with what was left of the orange juice from the fridge and delivered it to Aoba, leaning over the back of the couch to offer it.

"Drink."

Aoba carefully took it. He drank slowly but gratefully.

"Clear," said Noiz, facing him. "You sure no one saw you come in?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure." Clear turned his good ear towards him as he strapped on a fluffy pink apron and filled the rice cooker. Noiz had no idea where he found that, though this being a love hotel it must have been in the closet.

"I can't fix what people see." It was a mild scold. He could erase camera data or clutter up reports to give them time but if the police knew Aoba was back then Toue would learn of it too.

"I know… but this was really important!"

He sighed in soft agreement. "How did you find him?"

"I told you, I heard Aoba-san."

"Heard, like at Oval Tower?" Noiz remembered that time they stormed Oval Tower and Clear led them into a strange lab where Morphine members stood waiting. He insisted he could hear Aoba, but by the time they arrived and took out the members there was no trace of him and wouldn't be until now. There were a handful of other instances afterwards, but Noiz didn't know how much of it was true and how much of it was because of the damage to Clear's hearing. They wanted to believe, of course, but Clear couldn't pinpoint where the voice came from or what it said except that it was far away. "But how?"

Clear shrugged helplessly. "I just do."

Noiz pressed on, annoyed, his brows pinched. "Is it _any_ time he talks?"

"No… But there are times when it's louder."

"...Scrap," he guessed. Out of the corner of his eye Noiz could see Aoba listening to them, his head tilted in their direction.

"Mm," Clear agreed with a nod. He plunged into the refrigerator and emerged with meats and vegetables and eggs. "I think so."

"Was it always like this?"

"Yes."

Noiz pocketed his hands and leaned against the wall. "That's not good." 

"Why?"

"You were built for Toue and you can hear Aoba. That means other machines might be able to hear him, too."

"Ah…" Clear paused as he considered that. "...There was something wrong with me." Noiz looked at him. He explained further, "I was defective. That's why I was disposed of - I would've been destroyed except Grandfather took me home. Toue was supposed to be my master, the Alphas said as much - but when I heard Aoba-san I knew _he_ was my master. "

"So that's the 'defect?'"

"Yes…" Wonderful smells started filling the small apartment as he cooked. "But I'm glad I was made this way. It's how I met Grandfather and Aoba-san. And you too, Noiz-san!"

The smile thrown in his direction was open and honest. Noiz gave a soft, dismissive scoff.

Clear continued. "But I don't think anyone else can hear what I do. If they did, they would have found Aoba-san much earlier, right?"

"Probably…" he said. "If there were other units like you left."

"There's no one like Clear," said Aoba from his corner.

And it was true. Noiz and Clear shared another glance and left the discussion at that, though it still bothered Noiz. He wondered if Koujaku knew about Clear's so-called defect, but he kept that thought to himself as he took his seat again on the couch. Aoba said nothing else as he set the drinking glass on the table, lost in thought from the conversation.

They were quiet as the kitchen pans sizzled with frying food and dishes clinked. Like everything Clear made, it smelled delicious.

With nothing else to be done, Noiz called up a few of his screens again and checked if the security cameras around the hotel caught them returning. None did, since he tampered with them when they first hid out at the hotel.

His Coil beeped. There was a short text from Mink - he would head to the hotel, too, once he was done at the docks. He'd be there in a few hours. Good… they all needed to talk. There were things Aoba would want to hear.

Feeling someone watching him, he looked up in time to see Aoba hastily avoiding his eyes again. Why? Noiz found silent irritation creeping up his neck. He wanted to know what he was thinking, what had happened and what could be done, but he was sorely out of his depth. His inexperience with concern and comfort expressed itself as grumbling, unhappy emotional constipation.

So he took out a bunny cube and set it on the coffee table.

"Wake up," he ordered. Usagimodoki bounced to life.

"P!" it cried. "Aoba-san's here!" It immediately jumped towards him.

Aoba easily caught it, face lighting up with surprise. He cupped the cube gently in both hands. "Hey... Long time no see."

"A long time!"

"Is Noiz treating you right?"

"Yes! But Noiz-san was sad!"

"Why you...." he warned with a deeply annoyed tone. But Aoba's mouth finally curved into a thin, fond smile at the cube and Noiz's irritation faded. He let them idly chat and watched them until Clear finished making lunch.


End file.
